


bound to linger on

by fictorium



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 07:31:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16614605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: PROMPT: zelda x madam satan + "blinding" by florence and the machine





	bound to linger on

> _‘Cause all the walls of dreaming, they were torn right open  
>  And finally it seemed that the spell was broken_

“I should have known, that first time.” Zelda strides across the classroom like she owns the place, running a finger along the edge of the bookcase by the desk, frowning even though there’s not a speck of dust. “You had the look of a wild animal. Trapped.”

“Ms Spellman, if there’s some concern over Sabrina’s academic performance, I’d be happy to make an appointment-”

“Her academics are the least of my concern, as you well know. My niece tells me you’re aware of her other… enrolment.”

A nod is safest. No one lies to Zelda Spellman and gets away with it. Not for long. It’s why Lilith has been pleasantly tensed all this time; waiting to be found out. 

“It’s not a glamor, of course. That’s child’s magic, hiding one face behind another. And you’ve hidden the traces of sulphur so well, with that perfume you’re wearing.”

“Ms Spellman-”

“Please. It’s Zelda. Clearly the Dark Lord has intended for our paths to cross, I was simply slow to take the invitation.”

When did she get so close? That ridiculous fur stole should clash with coppery hair, but Lilith can’t tear her gaze from either. She’s backed against her own chalkboard, the white, powdery dust being ground into the dark tweed of her dress. 

“I wouldn’t presume to speak for the Dark Lord,” Lilith says, finding her voice again. It’s only a little lie, since she’s been happy to do just that when it comes to unworthy vessels. When it comes to  _men_. “But I’m certainly happy to make your acquaintance on these more honest terms.”

It takes a witch to know the true power of a name. It’s why Zelda had shared Lilith’s own panic about registering Sabrina’s name in the Book of the Beast. It takes a great witch to say Lilith’s name as it was meant to be said: an invocation, a caress, but mostly as a bone-trembling curse. 

_Lilith,_ is all Zelda has to say, that final recognition. Mary Wardwell, the very idea of her, is banished all over again in that instant. She dies another death at the press of Zelda’s immaculately-lipsticked lips on Lilith’s own. 

So this, after all, is what a mortal body can do. Lilith has hungered and feasted, tricked and trapped. Now she’s the one chased, cornered, and completely undone in the banal confines of a classroom. 

There’s a rumble of noise from the corridor, some extracurricular nonsense spilling out. She throws out a hand, closing and locking her classroom door with a silent spell, which only serves to open her up to Zelda’s questing hands, the ones so intent on stripping them both bare in this barely private space.

They have to talk, Lilith knows that somewhere in the back of her mind. There are great forces at work, plans already in motion. But isn’t the best part of worshipping Satan having the free will to indulge in what she wants along the way? 

And oh, how she  _wants_. 

She’s already wet when a slender thigh slips between her legs. The blush is high on Zelda’s cheeks as they move against one another, down to their underwear with everything that preserved their modesty pooled around their ankles. 

Then something she does, some careless touch or other, draws a throaty moan from Zelda. That might be the moment Lilith truly loses herself, because the actions after that are a blur of pleasure and surprisingly delicious pain in turn. 

“You’ll come by the house later?” Zelda says when they’re breathless, holding each other up on trembling legs. It isn’t a question, and Lilith has no intention of refusing even if it were. “There’s much to discuss.”

Then she puts her mouth to work again on Lilith’s neck, the flash of teeth might be a warning, but it’s too much to resist all the same. 

“Yes,” she tells Zelda, cooperative for now. Trying not to mourn the lack of contact when they pull apart at last. “It’s about time you invited me.”

They dress with competing spells, Zelda’s far more performative. There’s no time for pleasantries, for details even. Zelda simply nods and then walks away through Lilith’s enchantments as though they were never holding the door closed at all.

Letting herself slump into the waiting desk chair, Lilith sighs in time to the thudding of her heart. These bodies are useful, yes, but undoubtedly fragile. This one has never endured any physical pleasure quite like that. 

Still, there’s something to be said for practice making perfect. 


End file.
